Red Apples
by InkHarbor
Summary: One night, a young Nancy encounters the Springwood Slasher. CONTAINS GRAPHIC ADULT CONTENT AND SEXUAL VIOLENCE. Pre-burned Freddy.
1. Part One

**THE FOLLOWING STORY CONTAINS ADULT LANGUAGE AND GRAPHIC CONTENT INCLUDING VIOLENCE AGAINST CHILDREN. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own _A Nightmare On Elm Street _or Freddy or Nancy. Or anything. I'm too broke to own things. So if you try to sue me, my response will be an Albanian-Bad-Guy-From-_Taken_-style "Good Luck". **

** And I also don't own _Taken_.**

Freddy brushed the tips of his claws against his stubble as he watched her. They caught on a few short hairs but otherwise swept down to his jaw with ease. He clacked them carelessly, head inclined, eyes gleaming under the rim of his hat. They were trained on the child. He seemed fascinated by every step she took, and every way her head turned as she wandered under the weak light of a few struggling bulbs. One flickered on and off like a beacon farther down the dank corridor.  
She didn't know he was watching. And he didn't want her to, just yet. The apprehension in her movements, in her face, was entertainment he couldn't buy. The corners of his mouth stretched back into a perverse smile at the tiny collared dress with red apples printed near the hem. Red delicious. He knew her pudgy little thighs were underneath that cotton fabric.  
After slipping the glove into his back pocket and tipping up his worn fedora, he revealed himself in the friendliest way he could.  
"Hello? Are you lost?"  
"Uh-huh." Sniffles.  
This was his second favorite part of the game.  
"Come with me. Lets get to a phone and call your mommy. What's your name?"  
He would make her feel safe.  
"Nancy."  
Then he would hurt her.

They walked side by side through the narrow passageway. Nancy kept her distance from him, casting shy glances to the ground and walls. Her footsteps were a light patter on the cement.  
"How old are you, sweetheart?" He was staring down at the doll sized white shoes.  
"Six."  
Perfect.  
"My friend Glen was with me, but he's gone now. I can't find him." She turned her worried eyes up to him, then shot them off to the side.  
"He just disappeared?" Freddy was good at faking surprise. He knew where the boy was. "We'd better find him. There are lots of ways kids can get hurt in here. What's he wearing?"  
"A green jacket." She said after a few moments of thought. "We were playing with his dinosaurs. I had the spiky one, but then he stole it."  
"That was mean. Maybe getting lost is his punishment." He savored the last word. It tasted good on his tongue.  
Only a minute of silence passed, and a particular urge was already burning him up. He struggled to keep his hands at his sides. She trotted along with her head down. Her brown hair swept over her cheeks, hiding them.  
Freddy tapped his fingers against his trousers.  
"I'm so rude. I forgot to introduce myself. My name's Freddy."  
"Mr. Freddy, how much longer do we have to walk?"  
_Mr. Freddy_. He held back a grin. "You're tired?"  
"A little." Nancy seemed almost ashamed to admit it.  
He heard her gasp as the lights flickered off. They came back on again, but wavered, buzzing weakly like dying insects. Their shadows faded back and forth between hazy outlines and bold silhouettes beneath them.  
After a loud click, they were in solid darkness. He heard her muffle a whimper and inch closer to him, then felt her press against his leg. Her tiny fingers squeezed his.  
"Don't be scared. It's just bad wiring." He cooed, and closed his hand.  
His wicked smile grew in the darkness, as his hat fell a little lower on his brow.  
He could tell she was still wary of him. Their bodies bumped occasionally as she struggled to match his pace, and she recoiled each time. She wasn't scared enough yet.  
When the bulbs began to flicker again, she seemed more at ease. Freddy, on the other hand, could no longer wear his soul on his face. He put on a gentle expression and grumbled inwardly when her needy, wrench-tight grip loosened.  
She perked up. Something caught her attention- a glimpse of green far ahead.  
"Glen?" She called.  
"Where is he?" Freddy asked, squinting through the flickers.  
"Up there!" She let go of his hand to point. He didn't like that.  
The lights tuned down to a dim orange that barely illuminated the ceiling. That was definitely Glen's jacket. It looked like he was in it, huddled against the wall with his back to them.  
Nancy was out in front, desperately wanting to run but afraid to leave Freddy. She reached back and grasped a handful of his sweater. The stripes bulged between her clenched fingers.  
"Glen," She repeated. Why wasn't he answering her?  
On-off... On-off... The light came with flash-bulb brevity, like pictures strung together through a sea of darkness. Every few seconds, the green jacket was closer. And stranger. It didn't bunch right. He must have been curled up tightly with his head in his lap, because only green was visible. No part of him stuck out beyond the cloth. It was still hard to see, but as she got within a few feet of it, she noticed the red stains. She didn't dare make a sound. The odor of urine burned her nose as she stepped into the wide puddle. It rippled silently away from her shoe.  
When it got brighter, she saw that the sleeves were empty, hanging against the unnatural figure. The two black racing stripes that ran down the arm were torn in half.  
As soon as she started to come around front, it moved. A frayed cord was wrapped several times around the waist of the jacket, holding it on to the body underneath. Between the spans of darkness, she followed the bends of the cord to the wall, where it was tied to a rusty metal hoop. The body stirred with jerky movements.  
Darkness again. She listened to the crinkling of the vinyl fabric.  
"What's the matter? Is he okay?" Freddy approached from behind.  
"Something's wrong with Glen." Her pupils swam in white.  
The flickers were faster now, a steadily rising drumbeat. The figure turned toward her, rearing the side of it's face.  
Dried blood ran from its hollow eye socket, down over the mangled layers of dull silver duct tape that had been wrapped around its snout.  
Nancy cried and stumbled back into Freddy. He grabbed her shoulders to steady her.  
"What the hell..." He feigned disgust.  
"Mr. Freddy," She turned half around to look up at him with watery eyes before breaking into sobs.  
"It's okay. You're okay. I'm gonna get help." He smoothed her wavy hair. She wrapped her arms around his waist, her wet cheeks pushed into his sweater. The scratchy wool soaked up her tears and snot.  
"We need to get to the phone now, okay?" He murmured. Her hair was so silky.  
"But what about the puppy?" She cried.  
"I'll come back for it after we call your mommy, and I guess the police now, too. Come on."  
"Take that stuff off it's mouth." She pleaded and demanded at the same time, still pressed against him.  
Freddy rolled his eyes, since she couldn't see him anyway.  
"Yeah, of course,"  
He nudged her aside and stooped before the mutilated animal. It's nose twitched.  
The top layer had come loose when the blood soaked into it, and was pretty easy to peel off. He met more resistance with the rest of the tape, but it went easily enough. He made it down to the last layer, then sprung back when the dog ripped through it and snapped at him. It's snout wrinkled up into a nasty snarl. A few patches of fur barely covered the irritated skin.  
Nancy screamed and backed into the wall.  
"The poor thing's just scared." He assured her. But she didn't move an inch. He stepped lightly past the dog and stood between them.  
Stay behind me; it wont get you. I promise."  
She shook her head vehemently, staring into it's sockets. A thin tendon hung from the left one.  
"You can't stay here."  
"No." She said, petrified.  
Freddy exhaled.  
"Here," He slipped his hands under her arms and lifted her up. She clung to him, her fingers locked on the back of his neck.  
With her cheek resting on his shoulder, he carried her to the end of the hall.  
Steel double doors stood before them. He pulled the dirty handle, warm as it always was, and stepped into the boiler room.  
A maze of pipes climbed the walls, leaking puffs of steam from their loosened joints. The crackle of a distant, muffled fire filled the air.  
Her cool breaths soothed the skin around his collar, but sparked an unbearable heat deep in his chest that only intensified as they got closer to the furnace.  
With one arm supporting her legs, his free hand roamed over her back and felt the delicate marbles of her spine. The leather belt he'd been wearing seemed to get tighter as her heels pushed against it, the buckle digging into him. It was a struggle not to yank it off right there. But when she crossed her ankles around his waist, that was it. His fingers were on his pocket, over the bladed glove inside, wanting to pull it down to his wrist and take the relief he'd been aching for.  
_Not just yet_, he talked himself down with an inaudible groan. Waiting would be worth it.  
Nancy lifted her head to look straight up through the labyrinth of grated catwalks. They faded into a haze of black, high above the light.

"The telephone is just over there. Hey, are you falling asleep?" He chuckled.  
Nancy blinked her eyes open. She had been dozing. It was too long a day for such a small child.  
"Wait here. I have to go right past the furnace and it's too dangerous for kids to be around. Understand?" He lowered her to the floor and stayed bent over, hands pressed into his knees.  
She nodded and told him her home phone number, but he didn't bother paying attention. He wasn't going to make any calls. What he wanted to do was adjust the lighting; all that off-and-on bullshit was starting to irritate him. Besides, he preferred to hunt in the dark. Part of him wanted to continue toying with her, but an animal can only play human for so long before his hind legs get tired. Freddy wanted to taste blood on his claws.  
She looked worried.  
"Good girl. I'll be right back." He assured her before walking off toward the orange glow, and out of sight.  
Everything seemed scarier to Nancy as she stood there alone, but she determined to be brave. She tried hard not to think about what might be covered by shadows ten feet in front of her, or the monsters that were out in the corridor waiting until she was all by herself to come creeping out after her. Or what put out that puppy's eyes. She would stay still and wait for Mr. Freddy. He'll protect her.  
The only suitable distraction she could find was the red needle in a pressure gauge. It shook rapidly between two black lines for a long time. She jumped when the pipe above it hissed, shooting out a fountain of steam.  
Just as she had calmed herself, a hum that wound down like water being sucked through a drain echoed from the ceiling and the power went out. No flashes. No flickers. Out.  
Her stomach dropped like an anchor. She whipped her head all around, but saw only black. The faint orange glow caught her eye.  
Mr. Freddy would be mad at her. She had to stay here. _But it was so dark_.  
The fire threw out a half circle of light from around the corner. It flickered on the floor and lit the edges of a few release valves that were low on the wall.  
She shuffled her feet, still uncertain. The longer she stood there, the more it felt like something was getting ready to pounce on her. And the more inviting the light became. Finally, she allowed herself to be drawn in. She walked slowly at first, but picked up speed the closer she came to the bend, until she rounded it.  
Then she stopped.  
A couple of yards in front of her, in the center of the room, was the round, charcoal-black furnace. She was staring at it. At what was stretched out on top of it.  
The body of a little boy.  
His wrists and ankles were cuffed to chains that reached straight down to the floor, without an inch of slack. His back was arched over the curved surface, arms and legs spread apart wide. His skin and the back of his white underwear, forced into contact with the searing heat, had burned away. The smell almost made Nancy puke.  
Four deep slash marks ran across his small, bare chest. His head had lulled to one side, facing Nancy. A dull glaze covered the once-familiar eyes.  
The gag crammed in his mouth hadn't muffled any screams for at least the last hour. Black blood had soaked it, spilling over his lips and chin. Some flowed further down the metal side, becoming sticky burnt residue that still sizzled.  
Red and bright gold reflected off her eyes, the heat scorching them as she stared at Glen.  
When she finally looked away from him, Freddy was standing beside the furnace. A different Freddy. His right shoulder was dipped low, the one arm hanging straight down as if pulled by a weight, and his hand was hidden behind his pants. The rim of his hat cast a black shadow over his face.  
Nancy was shocked silent as the reality of what was in front of her set in.  
In a slow, deliberate display, he pulled his hand out from behind him. Grotesque claws extended from his fingertips like overgrown nails. They hung together, lifeless.  
"Disobedient piglet." His voice was a quiet growl. "I told you to stay away from here."  
Nancy stumbled back, as he splayed his knives. "_It's dangerous, bitch_."  
She turned and ran, his sick chuckle echoing after her. He'd made sure there was no way out of this room. Her pupils were constricted pin-points from staring at the light, but she went on despite the blindness. She almost tripped over what felt like an empty paint can. It shot across the floor and banged into something with a sound like smashing symbols. She cringed and looked behind her, but could only make out dark shapes.  
A minute later, she found herself near the fire again. Her stomach sank as she realized she'd gone in a circle. But this time, she was on a different side of it. There were layers of pipes and water heaters to hide behind. She peered out from between them, like trees in a forest. Freddy was still there, with his back to her, crouching over the end of one of the chains. He worked it until it came loose. He did the same with the other three, then grabbed the dead boy and dumped him onto the dirty cement floor. The last scraps of his underwear slid off. His naked body lay in an obscene heap, arms twisted, legs bent.  
Nancy couldn't look away.  
Without a pause, Freddy turned back to the furnace. The flames inside flicked out through the vertical slits in the door like the tongues of hungry demons. He unlatched it and pulled it open, flinching against the blast of heat. As he hauled Glen up into the mouth of the furnace, she felt stinging warmth swell on the rims of her eyelids. Tears fell around her shoes in penny sized splatters. He swung the door shut with a flick of his wrist, like he'd just been checking his mailbox.  
She heard the latch scrape shut.  
Freddy looked down at the torn piece of white fabric, burned black on the edges. Then he turned and stared directly into Nancy's face. With a vicious smirk, he lifted his ungloved hand and waved his fingers at her.

-The End-

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and please review. I thrive on feedback. It was fun writing Freddy. I might do a second part to this. Let me know if any of you out there want to read it.  
**


	2. Part Two

**Author's Note: The first part of this story was originally intended to be a one-shot, but the ending wasn't very satisfying. So, at Darkness Takes Over's request, I wrote up a concluding part. It's not as long as the first one, but that's because all this was meant to be implied. **

** A few warnings before we go on...**

**WARNING: CONTAINS GRAPHIC ADULT CONTENT INCLUDING VIOLENCE AGAINST CHILDREN. YOU'VE BEEN WARNED. AGAIN.**

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own _A nightmare on elm street_ or any of its characters.**

* * *

**Red Apples: Part Two**

Nancy crouched lower into the shadows beneath the metal stair case. The heat in the boiler room, even this far from the furnace, was producing a mist of sweat at her hairline. The whites of her eyes flashed between blinks as she turned every which way to make sure Freddy wasn't sneaking up on her. She tried to control her breathing, but her lungs never seemed to get enough oxygen to support the erratic pounding in her tiny chest. She didn't know what to do. He was going to get her.

She flinched at the distant clanging of metal followed by a hush of steam from one of the pipes. As she was considering where to begin looking for an exit, she froze.

There were footsteps on the stairs above her, coming down.

_ Clang_. _Clang_. _Clang_. The grated stairs rattled beneath his feet.

Then everything was silent. She stopped breathing as she waited, huddled on the filthy cement.

After a few seconds, she heard the footsteps going back up. She exhaled.

The whole stairway shook violently, and Freddy dropped straight to the ground in front of her. His body was obscured by the darkness as he stretched his neck off to one side and rolled his right shoulder. He moved forward, towering over the child.

With a scream, she shot past him and ran as fast as she could.

But she didn't get very far. What she thought would lead her to an exit, brought her instead to a dead end. She turned around just as Freddy stepped into view. She shifted from foot to foot, unsure if she should try to run.

All the while, he was coming closer. Spreading his arms wide, he smirked down at her.

"Come to Freddy." He licked his bottom lip as she started to tremble. She backed up until she hit the hard wall. A hanging chain rattled beside her.

He tilted his head in mock concern. "What's the matter?"

Looking past him, she spotted a ladder of thin, rusted metal rungs that led up to a long catwalk. But it was far away.

Freddy continued, reaching down to touch her cheek, "This isn't gonna hurt so bad. You might even like it."

His growing grin contorted into an expression of pain and anger when Nancy bit down on his hand. He ripped it away, growling through gritted teeth to keep from yelling out.

Nancy bolted around him, heading for the ladder. Her fingers wrapped around the first rung, but only for a moment. She was pulled backwards and dragged along the damp, dirty floor. Freddy was seething as he brought her back to the dead end and threw her into the wall. She whimpered, folding over onto the ground. He crouched and grabbed her jaw as he leaned back on his haunches.

"Kids just don't have any respect for adults anymore." He shook his head in disappointment, "You know what would have happened to me if I'd done that when I was six years old?"

After a brief pause, he answered his own question with a hard smack across Nancy's face. She squealed as tears gathered in the corners of her eyes. Her cheek began to swell.

"That, bitch." He concluded.

When he saw that she was still trying to crawl away, he laughed.

"You're slow to catch on. I'll bet you usually learn things the hard way, don't you?"

He pulled her back by her ankles, climbing on top of her.

"That's good, because I like _teaching _the hard way."

The tips of his razors twisted into the fabric of the pretty dress he loved so much. Time to see if those red apples taste as good as they look.

With his bare hand at her throat to keep her down, his glove pushed the hem of her skirt up to her slightly protruding tummy. Her bare legs wriggled.

He touched her soft, plump flesh with the tips of his knives and paused, canting his head back with a low groan - the unholy prayer of thanks for the food, before The Feast begins.

The knives pushed through her skin. The way her scream broke down into violent sobs, the way her body shook, wracked with pain. It was enough to make him shudder. He slashed from the collar of the dress diagonally across the chaotic rise and fall of her chest, tearing away at the neat line of plastic buttons that held the clothing together. It wasn't his intention to cut her there yet, but in the excitement, he'd left four shallow slices in her skin. The gaps that the wounds opened up filled with blood in mere seconds. Placing a razor under her chin, he tilted her head up to see the fear all over her face. Dried and fresh tear tracks ran over her pudgy cheeks. The left cheek was turning a deep shade of purple, the beginnings of a nasty bruise.

Freddy was almost impressed that she was still struggling. By now, most of his other piglets would be begging for mercy. She was more stubborn than he would have guessed. But in the end, she was a child, and he was the boogeyman. It was no contest.

He leaned down as she started whimpering, his mouth only centimeters from hers.

"Hush, Nancy." He whispered.

And The Feast began.

* * *

Sixteen-year-old Nancy Thompson jolted upright from under her blankets. She stared straight ahead with wide blue eyes, a hand flying to her chest, as if to contain the heavy pounding of her heart. The night shirt she wore was soaked with sweat; her fingers rubbed over it to find the cuts. She murmured something, trying to sooth herself, but felt none of the relief that usually came when you escaped a nightmare. Because it wasn't a nightmare.

It was a memory.

The End

* * *

**Author's Note:**** Just so no one's confused about how you were able to see Freddy's thoughts if it was Nancy's dream, the answer is simple: I wanted you, the reader, to see the event from both their perspectives, but Nancy only dreamed from her own perspective. And if you want to know HOW she escaped Freddy, well, that part I leave to you.**

** Make sense? I hope so. It's never a good sign when you have to write a paragraph-long explanation at the end of a story. Oh, well.**

**Thanks for reading, and please review! **


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